


The Itch

by UhJustMe



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bottom Bucky Barnes, Homophobic Language, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Pining Bucky Barnes, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Top Bucky Barnes, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 06:40:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7157741
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UhJustMe/pseuds/UhJustMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve watches Bucky have sex with men until he doesn't like watching all that much anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Itch

Bucky sat at the bar; sipping slowly at the drink he’d been nursing for well over an hour. The place was pretty packed and Bucky liked that. Popular places like this didn’t allow for a whole lot of careful people watching. Bucky knew what kind of people this establishment welcomed if one was looking sharply enough, hard enough. He didn’t want anyone who wasn’t in the know looking too hard at his actions. Bucky ran his eyes over the crowd, caught the looks of a few dames that, on any other night, would have caught him up easy, but Bucky was looking for something very particular tonight. An itch he had to scratch. Slyly, Bucky caught the eye of a young man, tall, thin, cute as a bug’s ear, exactly Bucky’s type. The young man, across the room, looked back openly. It was clear he was bent and looking for a man who was interested enough to give him the time of day. Bucky finished his beverage and sat the empty glass along with a few coins on the bar top before sliding off of the bar stool. Quickly, he caught the man’s gaze again before heading straight for the exit. Ten minutes passed before the man followed him out. Bucky grabbed the front of his shirt and shepherded him into the alley, leading them as far away from the streetlamps and prying eyes as possible. The young man followed Bucky easily and without complaint, already loosening his tie as Bucky toted him along. Pushing the man up against the brick wall, Bucky kissed furiously at his neck, running his hands up and down the man’s clothed chest.

“Woah, hey there,” the young man said around a laugh, pushing at Bucky’s head to get his attention, “while I appreciate the enthusiasm, if you could take your paws off me long enough to get my name, that’d be nice.”

Bucky sighed, put upon, and looked up at the man, “what’s your name?”

“Joey.”

“James; now, let’s get started with this, huh?”

“Why the rush? You got a wife at home or something?”

“Listen, pal, what we’re doing ain’t exactly accepted ‘round these parts, so the faster we do this the better, don’t you think?”

“Then take me to your place. I like to do these things slow, James.”

Bucky backed up, surprised that this man would even suggest something like that. Bucky wouldn’t and couldn’t take him back to his home. The apartment he shared with Steve shouldn’t be dirtied with such filth. Steve was too pure to have his homestead sullied with Bucky’s defect. Joey smirked, walking slowly, sultrily toward Bucky until he could wrap his long arms around Bucky’s neck, pressing his thin body against Bucky’s.

“I’ve got skills that no broad can come close to.” Joey leaned forward and pressed his lips against Bucky’s left ear, licking the shell of it, “you can slide into me real easy, James. I can take it any way you want to give it. So, why don’t we split, huh, James? You can do me all night if you want.”

Bucky swallowed, running his fingers up and down Joey’s flanks, “C-Can’t. I’ve got a roommate; I can’t bring you home.”

“James, don't leave me stranded here,” Joey pouted; it only made him more enticing, “I don't like to make it in dirty alleys.”

Bucky thought; it was only 8:00, and Steve worked at Mr. Harper's Grocer until around 10:00, and it took him almost 30 minutes to walk home. If Bucky and Joey were quick about it, they could both get off before 9:00.

“Come on; we can go to my place, but you have to be out by 9:00, got it?"

“Yeah, yeah, James. It's all aces, baby.”

Bucky and Joey peeled out the alley, making their way to Bucky and Steve’s apartment. Though Joey tried to flirt and joke with Bucky, Bucky was too focused on what he was about to do to play along. Making it with a man wasn't new for Bucky, he’d been doing that for months, but he'd always stuck to alleyways and in the more secluded areas near the docks. Joey, however, was beautiful and difficult to resist. Too tall, unfortunately, but he had that same blond hair, less luxurious, but still lovely. He was thin, too, and those pretty, blue eyes were almost the perfect shade.

Bucky led Joey upstairs to the shabby, one bedroom apartment that he and Steve shared. If Joey was unimpressed by Bucky’s home, he didn't make a comment to suggest as much. Before Bucky could fully close the door, Joey was on him, sliding off Bucky’s jacket (the nicest one he owned), and pressing him up against the wood. Bucky groaned, wrapping his arms around Joey’s thin waist. Bucky kissed him hard, grabbing handfuls of his backside.

“That what you want, James?” Joey huffed, rubbing himself against Bucky, “you can have it, baby; take it.”

Bucky marched Joey toward the couch, his arms still wrapped around him. The blond laughed and allowed himself to be led.

The couch was lumpy and uncomfortable, Bucky knew, but the bed he shared with Steve was too cherished to be spoiled like this. Joey didn't seem to mind anyway; he laid down and spread his long body along the couch, spreading his legs for Bucky. 

“This works better in the nude,” Joey joked.

Bucky smiled, leaning down to capture Joey’s lips again. He hurried to unfasten his slacks, pushing them down enough to free his cock. Joey licked his pretty lips, undoing his own pants and taking them off completely before turning over and presenting his backside to Bucky. His ass was glorious, two pale globes, covered in fine hairs. Bucky ran a hand along the left cheek, spreading Joey’s ass just a little. Joey groaned, dropping his torso down, falling onto his forearms.

“Got any slick?” He panted, looking over his shoulder at Bucky, “I can take it pretty okay without any, but it'd be easier with some.”

Bucky nodded, reaching into his pocket for the small tub of Vaseline and condom he kept on him for such occasions. Joey raised his eyebrows, impressed, “you got the good stuff.”

Bucky smirked, tearing open the condom packet and rolling it on before opening the Vaseline and scooping out a healthy glob. He wiped the majority of the petroleum jelly over the length of his cock before smearing the rest around Joey’s hole. The man beneath Bucky moaned at the contact, mumbling something along the lines of “hurry up.”

Bucky agreed; this had to be hurried. Without preamble or resistance, Bucky pushed into Joey with a loud, long groan. Joey sighed happily, pushing back against Bucky excitedly.

“Hey, stay still or this’ll be over faster than either of us would like,” Bucky said, taking a moment to get used to the sensation. This feeling wasn't new, but, every time, he liked to stop and take a moment simply to enjoy it. He liked to imagine that beneath him wasn't some random Joe; he liked to imagine—

“James, don't you have a roommate to worry about?” Joey asked over his shoulder, wiggling his ass a bit, “let's get started, huh, baby?”

Bucky nodded, pulling almost all the way out before propelling himself forward. The first thrust was always the best, Bucky thought, as Joey let out a grunt, spreading his legs as much as the space would allow. Bucky pulled back and pushed forward again and again until he’d worked up a damned near perfect rhythm. It was good, so good, and Joey moved with him beautifully. Joey hadn’t been blowing hot air; he was better than any dame Bucky had ever made it with. He rolled his body onto Bucky’s cock with hypnotizing movements, teased Bucky by pulling off, just to the tip, before slamming back down again. It was torture, and Bucky knew he wouldn’t last long. 

“James!” Joey moaned into the material of the couch, his hand dipping beneath his hips to touch himself.

Bucky picked up the pace, slamming into Joey without any pretense of gentleness. He was ready to finish, and he could tell Joey was about there himself. Joey reached back, grabbing hold of Bucky’s thigh for something to keep him steady, for something to hold onto. Bucky closed his eyes and ran his hands along Joey’s back, imagining who he truly wanted beneath him, taking him like this: Steve Rogers.

“B-Buck?” 

Bucky stopped short, pulling out of Joey so quickly, he almost threw himself off of the couch. With his pants around his thighs and Joey bent over, half-naked in front of him, Bucky turned to face Steve who was standing by the door, carrying a large grocery bag, his face slacked in shock.

“Steve, I—what are, what’re you doing home so early?”

“Mr. Harper. Closed down early. Slow night. Brought, I brought groceries home.”

Joey was completely still as if afraid to draw even a modicum of attention to himself by moving. Bucky, as a gentleman should, tried to shield Joey’s buttocks, fucked open and bare to the world, from Steve’s line of sight.

“Who, who is that, Buck?” Steve asked, still staring openly, still shocked.

“Stevie, let me explain.”

“Buck, it’s … it’s pretty clear what you’re doing.”

Bucky pulled up his pants, fastening them haphazardly before scooping Joey’s pants off of the floor and handing them to him, biting out a harsh “get dressed” as he stood. Joey snapped into action, sitting down on the couch properly and shoving his beautiful, long legs into his trousers, pulling them up around his bony hips. Once dressed, he stayed seated, quiet as can be, waiting for instructions from Bucky.

“Who is he, Bucky?” Steve asked again, his voice harder, demanding an answer.

“He’s … he’s a guy. I met. At the joint near Kingsbury.”

“Well, I think this guy you met at the joint near Kingsbury should scram.” Steve said loudly, clearly addressing Joey rather than Bucky.

Joey flinched, but stood, his lovely, blue eyes lowered to the dingy floor. He gingerly walked across the room, giving Steve and Bucky wide berths as he made his way to the door. Steve opened it for him, his face harder than Bucky had ever seen it before. Joey slid through the opening, glancing up at Steve briefly before disappearing. Steve slammed the door shut, locking it up behind himself.

“Steve … Stevie—” Bucky began before Steve raised a hand to stop him, not even wanting to hear any excuse that Bucky could possibly come up with.

“How could you be so wet, huh, Buck? Mr. Abramson is two floors down! He could’ve heard you. It’s not like you two were keeping it a secret what you were doing in here!”

“I’m sorry,” Bucky replied, running fingers through his sweat soaked, disheveled hair, “I didn’t realize—”

“You didn’t realize?”

Bucky shook, his whole body vibrating with nerves. Steve stared at him, his hard, cruel eyes softening slowly. He angled his head and considered Bucky. His mouth set low on his face, frowned down as he moved closer to his friend, shaking his head back and forth, evidently confused.

“Why, Buck? The girls. All those dames you dance with and neck with … make it with; and here I catch you with a fella. Why—why’d you bring yourself so low, Bucky?”

Bucky could feel the tears forming; he was embarrassed and ashamed. He’d never wanted Steve—so pure, so perfect, so goddamned beautiful—to find out about him. He never wanted to see this look on Steve’s face directed at him.

Bucky shrugged, averting his gaze as he said, “I like it. Fellas. I like making it with fellas as much as I like making it with broads.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Jesus,” Bucky met Steve’s quizzical stare, “it feels good, Stevie. Sometimes … better. I like girls, don’t get me wrong. They smell nice, and they feel nice, and they say all the right things to you, but sometimes I get this, this itch that I can’t always ignore. I have tried, Stevie. I swear I have, but it’s so hard.”

“How many … how many men have you brought here?”

“None,” Bucky was quick to answer. “He wouldn’t fuck me unless I brought him here. He didn’t want to do it in the alley.”

“That’s where you usually do it? In the alley like some dog?”

Bucky flinched. He’d never heard such contempt in Steve’s tone, “or at the docks.”

“Where you work?! Christ, Buck, could you be more stupid?”

“No one’s ever there! I check before I do anything.”

“How many men have you made it with, Buck? You better be level with me.”

“Six; I’ve made it with six guys.”

Steve made a disgruntled noise before rushing off to the kitchen. After a moment, Bucky followed him. Steve was leaned over the kitchen sink, staring out of the small, dirty window above it that showed a view of the building next door’s brick exterior, “Six?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you know ‘em?”

“Not one. I had only just met them. If, um, if you know where to look, you can find a guy who’s a little … different.”

Steve turned toward Bucky, his face more solemn now, “maybe you’re sick, Buck,” he said hopefully.

“Nah, Stevie, I ain’t sick, pal. This is just what I’m like.”

Steve made a desperate sound at the back of his throat, shaking his head as if stubbornly refusing to believe that he’d just seen his best friend buried cock deep in another man. Bucky moved toward Steve and was pleasantly surprised to find that Steve didn’t move away from him; Steve even swayed toward him, needing the closeness, the reassurance.

“I’m so sorry you had to see that, Steve.” Bucky said, meaning every word of it. “I don’t bring guys home, I swear. It’s not … it ain’t right to do that.”

Steve sighed, falling back against the counter top, completely winded, “Gee, Buck, I don’t know what to do here.”

Bucky shrugged, “you gonna hit me?”

Steve shook his head, looking over at the wobbly, tiny kitchen table on which he’d sat the groceries, “you hungry? I got some beans and some barely expired ground beef. I could make some chili.”

“Steve—”

“No, Buck, we’re done talking about that. Tonight, tonight I’m gonna take the bed, and you’ll take the couch. We’ll figure out what to do about this in the morning. For now, I’m gonna make some chili. Turn on the radio, huh?”

And without another word, Steve puttered around the kitchen preparing their dinner. In the end, the night was a quiet affair. Steve didn’t speak, and Bucky didn't either; he didn’t know what to say. There was nothing he could say, really. 

As he laid prone on the couch, staring up at the water stained, cracked ceiling, Bucky thought about what Steve would do in the morning. Would he ask Bucky to leave? Would he tell someone? Would he be okay with it? Would he ignore the whole incident?

The sound of the creaking floorboards pulled Bucky from his thoughts. Bucky sat up and turned toward the noise to find scrawny Steve Rogers standing there, a thin blanket wrapped around his tiny, wonderful body and his big, doe eyes on Bucky.

“What's it like, Buck?” Steve asked quietly, knowing he's saying things that shouldn't be spoken at all let alone at a normal volume level, “being with a fella like that?”

Bucky blew out a gust of air, fiddling with the sheet he'd been lying beneath, “I don't know … it’s just different.” He replied in that same quiet voice.

“From a woman?”

“Yeah, like, women are soft and they’re … supple. Men, they're a lot more rugged, tough, hard. They're, um, they're usually tighter too, unless they've been had a few times.”

“Have, uh, have you been had a few times?”

“Not a few but I have let a couple guys do it to me.”

“Did they, they didn't hurt you, right, Buck?”

“Not too bad. It hurt at first, like hell, but after a while it eased up … Didn't hurt so bad once I got used to it.”

“Does it, uh, does it feel …”

“Good?” Steve nodded. “Yeah. The, erm, the second time I finished … just from that.”

Steve shifted his weight awkwardly. “I didn't know that was possible.”

“Yeah, only sometimes if it's being done right. It's … it’s actually pretty keen.”

“I liked it,” Steve blurted suddenly before shrinking in on himself, embarrassed by his outburst.

“Liked what, Stevie?”

“W-Watching you. With that fella.”

“You did?” Bucky could barely believe it; the surprise was evident in his voice.

Steve nodded, wrapping the blanket tighter around himself, “I'd never seen anything like that. It was … nice to watch.”

“You like, uh, you like fellas, Stevie?”

Steve shook his head vigorously back and forth, “No, I don't think so, but I liked watching you and—”

“Joey.”

“—Joey making it.” Bucky nodded despite being confused; he felt Steve needed that from him. “How often … how often do you do that?”

“Once a month, give or take a couple of days.” 

“... and you don’t bring them here, right?”

“Nah, Stevie, I wouldn’t … I wouldn’t do that. I keep shady acts in shady places, I promise.”

“W-What if … what if I said you didn’t, uh, you didn’t have to keep doing it in shady places? What if … what if I said that it’d be, uh, okay to bring them … to bring your fellas here?”

Bucky stayed silent, holding his breath. He didn’t know what to make of this; he didn’t know how to respond. Sweet, precious, borderline sanctimonious Steve Rogers was admitting that he liked to watch his best friend have sex with men and was giving his best friend permission to bring strange men to their home to have sex with. Steve began to fidget after a while, made uncomfortable by Bucky’s prolonged silence. Bucky knew he should respond, but his shock was constricting. Steve shifted again, looking up at Bucky pleadingly. He needed Bucky to assure him that everything was okay, that what Steve was suggesting was okay. He needed Bucky to do what Bucky was damned good at: taking care of Steve Rogers’ needs. 

Bucky nodded as if what Steve said made total sense, as if what he said was the most logical thing in the world, “okay. That—that’d be okay.”

“Yeah?” Steve sighed, relieved.

“Mhm,” Bucky replied, holding Steve’s gaze, showing his friend that there wasn’t anything strange between them, “I’d be fine with bringing them back here; as long as, uh, you’re okay with it then I’m okay with it.”

Steve gave Bucky a shy smile, “Just give me a head’s up, huh?”

“Sure, Stevie, I can do that.”

“And, um, keep it down. The walls ain’t as thick as you think they are.”

“‘Course.”

“I’m gonna … I’m gonna go back to bed. Night, Buck.”

“Night, Stevie.”

Steve turned on his delicate heels and pitter-pattered back into the bedroom, closing the door softly. Bucky watched him go, entranced, fascinated, jarred. Slowly, almost cautiously, Bucky laid back down and stared up at the longest crack in the ceiling, his thoughts running a mile a minute until he fell into a fitful sleep.

Steve didn’t mention anything the next morning, and, taking his cue, Bucky didn’t either. They tip-toed around each other for over a month until it didn’t seem to matter that much anymore. More important things were going on. Steve got canned from the grocery store just as rent was due. Bucky had to work double shifts at the docks in order to make up Steve’s half. Steve always looked up at him like a kicked dog every night or early morning that Bucky plodded into the apartment, exhausted and aching. Bucky always smiled his most charming smile and promised Steve that he was fine, that he was happy to work doubles until Steve found a new job. The poor kid was worrying himself sick, poring over newspapers for any sort of manual labor position that his frail body could handle, which wasn’t much. Bucky hated to see Steve so panicked and anxious. They both needed to take their minds off of it; they both needed a release.

Thursday night was Bucky’s first night off in three weeks. Dressed in his best jacket, hair slicked back with water and the Brylcreem he’d gotten for his birthday two years earlier, he strode into the living room where Steve was sat, circling potential jobs in the newspaper with a dull pencil. He looked up when Bucky entered the space, whistling theatrically.

“Hey, you’re looking snazzy there, Buck,” he said, smiling so damned pretty it took Bucky’s breath away, “where you off to?”

Bucky shifted; they hadn’t brought up that night in a long time. He didn’t know if Steve’s offer still stood, but he thought he’d try, just in case, “I’m, uh, going out. I’m gonna, I’m gonna bring someone back … Is that … okay, Stevie?”

Steve sat up ramrod straight, his eyes widening minutely, “oh, uh, ‘course, Buck. Of course you can bring someone home with you. A gal or …?”

Bucky shook his head, averting his gaze.

Steve nodded to himself, pensive, “‘Kay, that’s, uh, okay. You want me to scram or …?”

Bucky’s head shot up. Steve was looking at him carefully, his expression perfectly blank, “you can, you can be here when we get back. If you want.”

Steve nodded then sunk back into the couch, resuming his job search, “have fun tonight.”

“Um, I will. Thanks.” 

Bucky slipped past Steve and out the door, a small smile playing on his face.

The apartment was dark when Bucky and Rob stumbled in, giddy and drunk with lust. Rob was even more beautiful than Joey was. His hair was the perfect shade, texture, cut; and his eyes were so blue. So very, wonderfully blue. Bucky kissed along Rob’s jaw, stripping off bits of clothing that wouldn’t be necessary in a few minutes. Rob let out a quiet laugh, helping Bucky along.

“So,” Rob sighed, voice like honeyed whiskey, “how do you want to do this?”

Bucky’s itch was stronger, more persistent, tonight than any other, and he knew why. “Do me,” he whispered, reaching down to cup Rob through his trousers.

“Yeah,” Rob hissed, “Bedroom?”

Bucky shook his head, “Can’t. Do me on the couch.”

Rob shrugged, allowing Bucky to lead him. Bucky turned on the lamp that sat on the small side table beside the sofa. When he looked up, toward the open bedroom door, he saw a quick movement, a dark, shadowed figure sat up in the bed that he and Steve shared, staring out at him. Bucky felt lit up inside knowing that Steve was watching him. 

Bucky stripped off the remainder of his clothes slowly, putting on a show for Steve.

“God, baby,” Rob groaned, looking Bucky up and down hungrily, “Let me just, let me just take a gander at you, huh? You’re such a pretty thing.”

Bucky blushed before climbing onto the couch, on his hands and knees, facing the bedroom, wanting to give Steve the best view possible.

Rob undressed quickly, tossing his clothes aside, “Got any preferences?”

Bucky shook his head, looking over his shoulder to catch Rob’s eye, “I keep it clean, so you gotta wear a rubber.”

Rob nodded, pulling one out of his discarded pants’ back pocket along with some kind of oil tin. Bucky turned back around, blowing out a long breath, trying to relax. Rob climbed behind him, rustling a bit as he put on the condom and spread the oil around himself and Bucky. 

“Ready?” Rob asked, his cock pressed up against Bucky’s ass. Bucky nodded, his eyes glued to where Steve was moving around minutely on the bed, watching in rapture. 

Rob pushed in slow and easy, this wasn’t his first time, clearly. Bucky let out a low groan, his body going rigid, taut.

“Relax,” Rob grunted, pushing in some more, even slower now, much more carefully, “You gotta relax, James. Let me in, sugar.”

Bucky panted into the arm of the couch, spreading his legs to make things easier. It hurt, it always did, at first, but he wanted to be good ... for Steve. Rob slipped in all the way, leaning forward and moaning against Bucky’s sweaty back, “Christ, ah, Christ, James.”

Bucky nodded. He knew how good it felt to be buried this deep in someone. Bucky shifted, pressing back against Rob. The man nodded in understanding, pulling back slightly before pushing forward again. Bucky hissed, pulling his left leg closer to his chest, alleviating some of the pressure. Rob let out a breathless noise, pushing Bucky’s leg even further up the couch, his thrusts becoming ragged, harsh, hurried. Bucky whined, moving around a little more until he felt that familiar jolt shoot up his lower back, “ugh, shit.”

“Yeah, yeah, James.” Rob babbled, keeping Bucky still so that he could keep pumping into him in that position, the position that Bucky seemed so keen on. 

Bucky looked up to find that Steve had moved to the bottom of the bed, closer to the opened door, his eyes blown wide open. Bucky smirked, pushing back against Rob as best he could while being held down. Rob whimpered, pressing his face into Bucky’s neck, kissing at him gently, sweetly, “you’re beautiful,” Rob said. Bucky keened, moving his hips in stilted circles to get Rob just a little deeper, to have him rubbing incessantly at the spot that Bucky desperately needed him to touch.

“I’m gonna finish,” Rob said, breathing labored against Bucky’s skin, “tell me you’re almost there, baby.”

“I’m almost there,” Bucky promised, shoving back against Rob more forcefully.

Rob took the hint; he sat up on his knees, pulling Bucky’s hips up and shoving his head down into the couch cushion. He pistoned into Bucky fast and hard, not letting up once. Bucky screamed into the couch, stifling as much noise as he could, scratching at the arm of the upholstery with his blunt nails. Rob was good, very good, and Bucky felt like his orgasm was wrenched out of him, wringing him dry and leaving him empty. He grunted as his seed splattered against his stomach, leaving him wet and sticky. Rob let out a bit off noise as Bucky tightened around him before he sighed, peaceful, relieved, and slumped back against the couch, spilling out of Bucky. 

They both stayed like that, Bucky bent over, face buried in the cushion and Rob spread out behind him, sweat glistening on his chest. Rob let out a gentle laugh, staring up at the ceiling in reverence, “You are … something else.” He sighed, “I want you again.”

Bucky groaned, turning over and lying back against the arm of the couch, one leg thrown over the back of it and his other leg dropping off the edge, “I couldn’t get it up again if I tried,” Bucky said around a laugh.

They lied there in silence, allowing one another to come down from their high. After about 10 minutes, Bucky shifted, sitting up to face Rob, “I got work pretty early, so …” Rob nodded, standing up and putting his clothes back on with leisure.

“Me too,” he buttoned up his trousers before turning back to Bucky, a small, gentle smile on his handsome face, “I work at Marty’s Butcher Shop. If, um, if you ever need some beef or pork or what have you, stop in. I’ll give you a good discount.”

Bucky smiled, “that’s awful nice of you, Robert.”

Rob blushed, bending down and kissing Bucky softly on the lips, “I, uh, I really hope you do stop in, James.”

“I will.” Bucky promised.

Bucky walked Rob to the door, limping slightly. Rob had the decency to look terribly apologetic. Bucky smirked and promised that his limping was a good thing; it meant that Rob had done a fine job. 

Once the door was shut and locked, Bucky hurried to the bedroom to find Steve lying across the length of the bed, his body covered with sweat, his frail chest moving furiously with each panting breath he took. He looked up when Bucky entered.

“Was … Was that okay?” Bucky asked, suddenly feeling shy and anxious.

“God, Bucky,” Steve groaned, licking the perspiration from his top lip, “you were unreal.”

Bucky blushed, shrugging, “I don't know; it was only—”

“No, Buck,” Steve said with a righteous assurance, “I've never, I've never seen you like that. You were so … great.”

Bucky felt this was the time. Steve was clearly putting it out there, making it clear that he'd liked what he saw, that he’d liked what he saw in Bucky.

“You can make it with me, Stevie.” Bucky said quickly, desperately, afraid that if he didn’t say it then, he’d never say it. Steve titled his head slightly and assessed Bucky seriously, his blue eyes burrowing into Bucky’s.

“I just mean ...” Bucky continued awkwardly, “if that's something you wanted. If you like to watch, it'll be even better to know what it's like to―”

“I can’t … I don't wanna make it with you, Buck.” Steve replied, slowly, “that's, that’s not what I want.”

“Then, then … why watch?”

Steve blushed, bright red, pulling his bony knees up to his bony chest, resting his chin on them. He looked like a scolded child, “I don't know,” he whispered. “I just like to.”

Bucky wanted to cry. Was this the only way? Did he have to make it with every fella in town to get Steve's gaze on him, looking at how well Bucky took and gave it?

“You don't, you don't have to do this, Buck, I mean, if you don't want to.”

Bucky shrugged, mumbling that he didn’t mind, before climbing into bed. He lied down on his stomach, head turned toward the wall. Steve didn't say a word; he simply lied down beside Bucky, putting a great deal of appropriate space between them. Bucky fell asleep, a pit in his chest.

Four months. Eight men. Bucky fucked and sucked them all, and each time Steve watched from the bedroom, entranced. Bucky kept eye contact, wanting Steve to see him, see what Bucky could do, see how good Bucky could be when given the chance.

Bucky had just sent Christopher on his way, limping so terribly as he walked the blond man to the door. Christopher liked the rough stuff even if Bucky wasn’t completely head over heels for it. When it was all over, Bucky was sensitive, his backside aching and open so wide he worried he'd never be normal again. Bucky hobbled into the bedroom to find Steve red, not flushed with lust, but with indignant upset. As soon as Bucky was within arm’s range, Steve pulled him closer, wrapping his long, straggly arms around Bucky and holding onto him so tightly, Bucky worried for his own rib cage.

“You okay, Buck?” Steve asked quietly, pulling Bucky closer still, “did he hurt you?”

Bucky shook his head, “I’m just beat, Stevie, that’s all.”

“Don’t lie to me, Bucky.” Steve replied, pushing Bucky back a bit so that he could look him in the eye, “that guy was bananas … the way he was, the way he was making it with you.”

“Some fellas like it like that.” Bucky shrugged, “it wasn’t all bad.”

“You didn’t even finish. You always finish.”

Bucky pushed Steve aside so that he could get into bed, but Steve didn’t let him get very far, grabbing hold of Bucky’s upper arm and holding on tightly, “Buck, talk to me.”

Bucky wretched his arm free, angry, annoyed, in pain, “What!? God, I’m tired, Stevie. I work 16 goddamn hours at the docks almost every day. I’m tired. I need a rest.”

“Buck, I ain’t tryin’ to beef with you, okay? I just wanna make sure you’re―”

“Shut up, Steve. I’m all torn up inside and I need to lie down. I don’t have the goddamned energy to make you feel better, all right?”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Buck. I’m just concerned. I don’t know why you’d pick a guy like that. Why’d you let him do that to you. I want to make sure that you’re okay, that’s all.”

Bucky was fuming, his face growing crimson as he turned on Steve, pushing the smaller man back against the thin, plaster wall of their bedroom. “You don’t know why?” He hissed into Steve’s face. “You’re something else, Steve Rogers.”

“I never asked you to get yourself hurt, Buck…”

“Well, in order to keep up with your fucking ravenous appetite to watch me make it with fellas, sometimes I gotta take what I can get.”

“Buck—”

“What are you so afraid of, huh, Steve?” Bucky asked suddenly, his voice gruff and loud, “You’re living out fantasies through either me or them fellas by watching. I don’t know which, but I’m here, Stevie! You can have it, if you want.”

“Buck … I can’t.”

Bucky let out a sardonic laugh, pushing himself away from Steve, “Oh, I get it. It’s fine for me, huh? It’s fine for me to be all wet, for me to be low, for me to a goddamned fag, but not the great, the wonderful Steve fucking Rogers.”

“That is not what I think of you, Barnes.”

“Save it! You can just, just get lost, Steve. I’m done playing this game.”

“Don’t be a jerk, Buck. Come on.”

“No! No, I’m done with you, Rogers. I’ll be moving out by the end of this month. I’m not gonna be a fucking chump for you anymore. You’ll have to get your bangs elsewhere.”

Bucky climbed into bed and lied on his front with a huff, his body so sore, his heart so broken. He wanted Steve to leave so that he could cry in peace, but Steve wasn’t like that; Steve would never leave Bucky so worn down. Bucky could feel his presence in the room still. Gently, Steve ran the knuckles of his fingers over Bucky’s left ankle, so soft and gentle.

“You’re not all wet, Buck.” Steve said quietly. “I’m a coward, I know that.”

Bucky shifted slightly, but didn’t say anything, so Steve continued. “I should’ve ran out there and fought that guy off of you. I should’ve. You’re my … you’re my best friend, my best guy, and I should’ve protected you.”

Bucky let out a choked noise, stirring so that he could roll over and look at Steve, his eyes wide as he stared.

“I, I don’t like it, not anymore, watching those fellas touching all over you. I just, I didn’t … I couldn’t. I was so scared, Buck. I’m not like you.” Bucky’s expression darkened and he seemed to fold in on himself; Steve was quick to correct his words, making sure that Bucky’s thoughts weren’t ambling toward the wrong thing, “I’m not as brave as you. I can’t … I can’t always take what I want. I try to do the right thing all the time, Buck, and I seem to always make a mess of it.”

“Stevie…”

“I love you, Buck. I love you lots, I promise you that. I doubt you want me now, but I wish, I hope you’ll have me, huh? I’ll be better, Buck. No more fellas, okay? I don’t want to watch it anymore. Now, now it just hurts. Seeing all of them guys being with you like that, you enjoying being with them. It don’t, it don’t feel as good anymore.”

“Okay, Stevie, no more fellas.”

“I can’t promise you that I won’t, that I won’t mess up sometimes, Buck.” Bucky nodded. “But that don’t mean that I won’t make this work. I’ve never made it with a fella―”

“I’ll show you.” Bucky interrupted.

Steve smiled, small, shy, and private, nodding. “I know you will, Buck.” Steve climbed onto the bed, hovering just above Bucky, planting a soft, unsure kiss to his lips, “I do want to make it with you, Buck.”

“Okay,” Bucky said, incredibly certain and serious, making moves to roll back onto his stomach before Steve stopped him with a light hand to his shoulder, shaking his head back and forth sternly.

“No, Buck. Not now but eventually. I wanna, I wanna do this right. I’m gonna work for it, okay?”

“You ain’t gotta work for it, Steve.”

“I do, Buck.” Tears sprang to Steve’s eyes, making them so much more blue, so much more beautiful. “I haven’t been treating you right. I’m gonna be so, so good to you, Buck.”

Bucky stared up at Steve, feeling the weight of his words, the fire in his voice, and he felt so loved, it almost hurt. He nodded, slow and easy. “We, um, we ain’t gotta make it, Steve, but at least, you know, bill and coo me a bit.”

Steve smiled wide, pressing down on Bucky just a bit more so that their bodies were pressing against each other, “sure thing, pal.”

The kisses and touches were awed, devout. Steve was seemingly trying to rectify every doubt, every screw up, and Bucky let him. Bucky deserved this. He held on tightly to Steve and let the smaller man explore him with his lips and hands, touches fearful, apprehensive at times, but consistent. Steve was scared, of course he was, but he was certain in his resolve and that’s all Bucky could ask for. 

Bucky fell asleep to Steve’s kisses all over him.

**Author's Note:**

> Several things:  
> 1) My "research" of the 1920's-1940's was pretty shotty, so there may be hella inconsistencies.  
> 2) This fic is totally self-indulgent, but I hope it's at least somebody else's thing and is, therefore, enjoyable.  
> 3) All grammatical and mechanical errors are my own; sorry about that.  
> 4) I tried to cover as much as I could in the tags; let me know if there's anything I missed.  
> 5) Feel free to criticize or give feedback; I absolutely love that stuff.  
> Thanks!


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